The Green Hills Of Drury Poem by Ann Beard
The Green Hills Of Drury
The city of Auckland its roads spreading wide,
twisting and winding like webs from a spider.
Maori descendents spread culture and pride,
while attempting to tolerate, me the outsider.
To the south of the city, a town Papakura,
Papa (flat) , kura (the precious red earth.)
Home to some wealthy but more often poorer,
inhabitants blessed by free will or by birth.
The suns golden rays caress green hills of Drury,
a small country town, once known for its coal.
Now warming each heart and soul just as surely
as sights of a newly born calf or a foal.
Between these two towns is my home my delight,
trees that alter in shape and texture each year.
Spring colours cause breath to catch at the sight,
Drury Hills bathed in sunlight, heaven so near.
So although not a native and born elsewhere,
forty years it has taken to bring me to being.
So privileged to spend each tomorrow and share,
inspiration and pleasure in what I am seeing.
Endless blue skies boast of spring over farmland,
branches once naked stretch out to transform.
Rampant is growth seeming wild and unplanned,
tempting blossom and blooms to bask, to feel warm.
And I the outsider have roots bound securely,
in precious red earth that holds secrets of living.
And know as I look to the green hills of Drury.
that Spring leads our world in the art of forgiving.
(Roan Oct.2007)
What a beautiful poem you have written here Ann you do have a way with words up to your usual high standards, great work
Wonderful imagery Ann and such love for your adopted home shows through in your beautiful words....this is lovely...and thank you...
I was drawn in by the title and I'm so glad I found this work of art. Beautiful words and a wonderful image of your adopted homeland. Thank you for sharing. Andrew x
Agree with all below.... you do this so much better than I would ever do... our lovely Drury and those Bombay Hills TenFOLD
Just amazing, like a coming together of different people, different cultures Endless blue skies boast of spring over farmland, branches once naked stretch out to transform. Rampant is growth seeming wild and unplanned, tempting blossom and blooms to bask, to feel warm. WOW! A* for this one, top draw Love duncan X
As Francis knows, I love rhythm and rhyme. That's what I write, and it's hard to find here. I hope you don't go anywhere because I intend to read all your poems. Thank God, I stopped here. You did a wonderful job on 'The Green Hills of Drury'. I won't be able to stay today but as Arnold says, 'I'll be back'. Greenwolfe 1962
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 8:47:51 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Ann, Wonderfully descriptive and visually beautiful. You transport the reader there. I live in the foothills of Mt Hood in a rain forest of Cedar trees. Peace, Ray